1

The fake monk's fist met the void lizard's claw in a loud explosion that was quickly swallowed by the black void. He was forced back by the force and attacked the hulking creature from another angle. It hissed menacingly at the incoming figure and swung its scaled tail to meet him.

Bai li yue was watching the fight from a distance.

Is this how i'm going to die? Lost in the void with nobody to remember me or mourn me?

She wished for the fake monk to be defeated. It would be better for him to die before he could do whatever it was he planned to do to her. He hadn't mentioned his future plans, but he had tied her up, abducted her from her home- heck from her world. He didn't have to say anything. Only suffering and death awaited.

Maybe dying here wouldn't be a bad idea. There was no one back home. No family or at at least any that would acknowledge her existence. She tried to remember the last time she had seen what remained of her family.

It was last spring. She'd been home as usual, watching tv and preparing spicy hotpot for supper when her uncle called. He was back in T city visiting the rest of the family. She hadn't wanted to go out, but he was family. True family. Her parents and siblings had died in a house fire leaving her alone. Uncle bai, her father's youngest brother was the only one who didn't blame her for their deaths. He was kind to the young girl mourning her family. The others drew their children closer to them whispering warnings about the cursed bai li yue who killed her family.

Why didn't she die and leave us in peace?

A what a shame to the family!

They didn't mind that she could hear every word. Maybe they no longer cared.

They shunned her. All of them… except uncle Bai. He cared about her. After the funeral, he wanted her to live with him, but she declined his offer, choosing instead to stay in her parent's home after it was rebuilt. They'd left some money in their wills. It would be enough to take care of herself till she reached adulthood.

Bai li yue's life was empty. She had no friends to chat with or go out to town with. From early on, she knew something was strange about her. School was tough enough without her classmates blaming her for every wound or bad luck. Her sister and her brother became her friends, but tragedy eventually struck and she had no one to blame but herself.

If only…

If only she had been more careful. She'd still have a family. If only she had not forgotten...

Uncle Bai would also be alive. She had returned home from the dinner and a movie in acgreat mood. They had talked and talked for hours over dinner. She hadn't laughed like that in a long time. She was calling him to inform him how glad she was that he'd visited, but she was too late. He was already gone. The paramedics told her that the bus he was travelling in hit another truck head on. He was the only unfortunate passenger. His seat belt was undone and he was flung through the windshield. He didn't make it.

His funeral was at the same venue where she has said goodbye to her family. Flowers and wreaths of condolence lined the hallway and the sweet sickly smell did nothing to alleviate the smell of death. If anything the scent of the flowers stuck to the walls of her throat, making it hard to breathe. It was no different from her parents funeral. She didn't know how she got there or how she left the funeral hall. Her relatives were less courteous this time.

Auntie Bai ming was weeping on the floor. She screamed and hurled insults and curses at li yue when she saw her enter. Some of the mourners rushed to hold her back when it looked like she was going to pounce on li yue. She broke free  and managed to hurl her shoe at li yue. The pain on her temple from the shoe roused her out of her dazed state to notice the accusatory looks directed her way. She didn't blame them. Could she? She was to blame after all. She kept on asking herself if uncle bai would have been nice to her if he knew she was going to kill him too, like she had done to the others?

The days after the funeral turned into weeks and then months. She felt the guilt clawing away at her insides, fighting to get out. She hadn't been bothered enough to go to work. She had called the noodle restaurant where she worked as a delivery girl to tender her resignation. The owner had already replaced her with another person willing to work hard.

Why did i even meet him?, she wondered to herself.

Weeks later, she began to feel more and more like her former self. She was sad that uncle Bai was gone, but what was the use in mourning for the rest of her life? For some people suicide, might be an option, but it just wasn't for her. Even if her life was miserable, she would choose to live miserably. She hoped uncle Bai would forgive her for living. Whenever grief overwhelmed her, she painted. She wasn't overly talented, but she could make a decent living as a moderately famous artist.

When she was young, her father had shown one of her paintings to a gallerist who was moved to tears before stating that what bai li yue lacked in talent, she more than made up for it in emotion. She was a rare kind of artist who painted her feelings. She painted when she was angry, when she was sad, when she was happy.

She hadn't painted anything in years, since the fire, but she needed a release. She needed to shed the grief that hang like a cloak over her being. Literally put her sorrow on paper and in some way transfer it outside of herself.

Days later, her living room was graced with seven breathtaking paintings. She was finally empty.

She blew her hair out of her tired eyes and moved to her brushes in the yard. The dusk sun drowned the world in hues of red and orange. Night would soon fall in the quiet residential neighbourhood. Bai li yue basked in the warm light for a while as she went about her work. She roused her and went back inside, the door swinging shut halfway behind. She had not slept in a while and was running on empty.

She munched on a handful of shrimp flavored chips while the water in the pot came to a boil. She dumped a packet of ramen, its accompanying spices, vinegar and the mandatory egg after the ramen was soft and chewy. She finished the tongue burning soup in record time and headed over to bed, sated.

The afternoon sun was getting warm on her skin when she broke through the layers of sleep. She woke up refreshed after the much needed rest. She made her way into the living room and then came to a shocked halt. The door was open. The paintings were gone. It was the worst thing she could imagine.